


i own the night and i don't need no help

by inberin



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Clubbing, M/M, Multi, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 22:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4804871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inberin/pseuds/inberin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this is a nightclub au</p><p>alternatively: futakuchi kenji comes for the music, and stays for three boys who stick in his head the way the cheap beer stays in his mouth—too sickly sweet but too addictive to ignore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i own the night and i don't need no help

**Author's Note:**

> tfw writing exercise goes out of hand and suddenly you're sinning a lot more than u expected. the title is from goddam club can't handle me by flo rida what do u want from me
> 
> this is more of an exploration of relationship dynamic than anything, so buckle down and get ready for an awful excess of bad flirting on all fronts

Kenji can feel the beat pulsing through the walls of the building, under his restless fingers as he taps them against the rough, stained brick. It's a delicious rhythm, heady and thick on his tongue, and it's that fucking DJ again, Kenji thinks, he's finally here again, thank God. He hasn't had a fix in almost a week.

"Stop that," Kamasaki grunts irritably at him as his feet start tapping out the time. "It's really fucking annoying."

"Would you rather I clapped along instead?" Kenji coos.

Kamasaki only rolls his eyes at him. "Yeah, sure. It's not like any of us have a reputation left, with you hanging around."

"Aw, are you regretting taking me here?" He slings an arm around Kamasaki's shoulders. It fits a lot more snugly than he remembers. "You still holding a grudge? You're just lucky I think your glare is hot, old man."

Kamasaki raises an eyebrow at him instead—what the hell, he's not taking any bait today—but before Kenji can make any sort of scathing remark in response, they're at the front of the queue.

"Nobu-chan!" Kenji singsongs. "Not inside today?" Takanobu just shrugs his shoulders at him. "That's too bad. How about I get you a drink to help you pass the time quicker, hm?"

Kenji laughs as he hops away from the half-hearted swipe Takanobu aims at him, and pretends to tip an imaginary hat at him. He vaguely gets the impression that Kamasaki's pressed a small wad of bills into Takanobu's hand behind him, but the beat draws him in, pulls him forward into the semi-darkness.

It's the same DJ, the one with the light hair and the innocent face who pulls the sickest sounds together in just the right way that makes Kenji's mind go blank and his legs start aching, but a hand grabs his collar and pulls him backwards before he can escape to the dance floor. (He probably lets out a whine, but he'll just bribe it out of Kamasaki's memory with like three beers, later.)

"Alright, hold the fuck up," Kamasaki says. "You're not even going to buy a drink first?"

"It's a been a week!" Kenji yelps at him. "I need this, please, oh my God, let me go—"

"You're whinier than usual today, kid," Kamasaki grunts. "Just don't forget you owe me for this."

"I thought you were supposed to be my sugar daddy."

"I'm barely a year older than you, shut the fuck up."

"Yeah, yeah, okay, okay!” Kenji windmills his arms. “Let me go, already!"

The moment his fashionably overpriced t-shirt is released from Kamasaki's clutches, he sprints forward and into the throng, and lets himself go.

Futakuchi Kenji might be a shit person who's shit at half the things he tries to do, but if it's something he's heard enough of to be sure of his prowess at—

"You're the shit," a pretty, messy-haired boy with hooded eyes says, as quietly as you can possibly be with loud thumping blasting everywhere. "Dance with me?"

"Fuck yeah," Kenji laughs, and he's treated to a strangely sweet smile.

"Good shit today," someone yells at the raised podium above the dance floor. The DJ pulls off his headphones, and the person yells it out again, and Kenji sees a flash of teeth as the DJ grins like a small child. A small child, in a club. He almost wants to laugh. The headphones go back on, and the track threatens to fade before seamlessly transitioning into another addictive, thumping beat. Kenji sucks in a breath, and the beauty before him blinks up owlishly at him through thick lashes.

"You like his stuff?" he asks.

" _God_ , yes," Kenji almost hisses, then realises how stupid he sounds and feels his cheeks warm. "Yeah, yeah I do."

The boy tilts his head to the side in a way that reveals a long, thrilling expanse of neck. "Is he more interesting than I am?"

"Oh alright, gorgeous," Kenji laughs, "I don't even know your name, and you're already jealous?"

He's already moving to the beat, just letting his body do _whatever_ , and the boy doesn't take long to catch up, fingers trailing curiously across Kenji's waist and arms. He's not the smoothest of dancers, but his eyes catch Kenji's attention with every blink, every side glance, every held gaze. Kenji finds himself following the pull and leaning forward, and he's greeted with hot breath against his ear and an almost whispered "it's Akaashi”.

He stops _Akaashi_ from slinking away with a hand on the small of his back. "Futakuchi," he offers.

Akaashi's lip curls up. "Futakuchi," he repeats, in a tone that has Kenji wishing he'd told him his actual name instead, if only to hear if it'd sound just as good in that voice. "Since we're finally acquainted, Futakuchi, am I allowed to be jealous now?"

A beat drops and Kenji feels something familiar plummet in his gut, and it's not unpleasant. "Aren't you a sly one?"

"I don't get out much," Akaashi says, sounding more like he's having a nice polite conversation with a colleague rather than with loud autotune in both their ears, "so don't blame me for going all out on the first pretty boy I see."

Kenji finds himself genuinely laughing. It feels good. "Who the fuck are you, beautiful?"

Something like amusement dances in those hooded eyes. "I don't think that's what you want to know, Futakuchi." He drags a thumb across his lower lip in a manner that could be considered somewhat titillating, then points with the same thumb over his shoulder. "You want to know who _he_ is."

"Ooh," Kenji croons. "Are you offering some information on that cute ass DJ, Akaashi? Whatever happened to being jealous?"

This time, Kenji spots a flash of teeth as Akaashi smiles. "Nothing at all. I'm just supporting my own cause," he says meaningfully.

Kenji grins confusedly at Akaashi, letting his eyes flit back up to the DJ's platform. "What are you talking about—oh."

The DJ has his eyes closed, swaying along to the music, and doesn't notice when a slightly shorter boy in a print tee sneaks up behind him. The newcomer scans the crowd, and Kenji blinks in surprise when he catches his eye. A wink and a playful finger to his lips is sent Kenji's way, before he slips an arm around the DJ's waist, jerking him laughing out of his reverie.

"Ew," Kenji says.

Akaashi, who'd been watching him critically the whole time, lets out a sharp bark of laughter. Kenji didn’t think he was capable of a sound like that. "My condolences, Futakuchi."

"Nonsense!" Kenji declares. "Nothing like a challenge, to spice things up a little!"

"Why, do you normally have your conquests throwing themselves at your feet?" Akaashi purses his lips. "How unflattering."

"What, don't do that, sweetheart, c'mon." Kenji grins. "Weren't we in the middle of something?"

"Yes, I think we were." Akaashi looks up at him through those fucking lashes again. "Care to remind me?"

"With pleasure," Kenji says.

Akaashi's definitely unfair, Kenji's so sure he's the sort of guy who pretty much wakes up looking bloody gorgeous while people like himself actually have to bother with hair gel and a comb and the smallest hint of eyeliner to look passably good. The music transitions from a continuous string of beats to something more like a playlist, and Kenji glances at the platform. The DJ and his friend are gone. When he glances back, so is Akaashi.

"Wuh?" he says, intelligently.

He turns about to see Akaashi sending him a sidelong glance just a little ways away, completely taking up the attention of a boy with large, guileless eyes and sandy hair. The DJ. _Blink and you miss_ , Akaashi mouths at him, a small smile playing about his lips.

 _Well-played_ , he mouths back.

He's not even mad, honestly. If anything, it's an excuse to finally go grab a drink. It doesn't take him long to find Kamasaki chatting up the bored-looking bartender as he sidles up next to him. "Hello!" he says cheerfully to the bartender as Kamasaki sends him a glare that would probably have instantly murdered him, if he were looking in the right direction. "I'd like a beer, please."

"And I'd like a gin," says a voice next to him.

When he turns around, it's the guy who’d winked at him through the crowd. Kenji figures he still looks just like a pretty normal dude, but there's something in the way he's smiling— _smirking_ —up at Kenji that has him sitting up straighter. "Sorry, don't mean to interrupt your thoughts or anything,” the boy says, easing himself into the chair next to Kenji. “But I think you're missing your dance partner."

The bartenders slides them their drinks, and Kenji can't stop himself from snorting into his glass. "No shit."

The boy eyes him from over the rim of his own glass. "Aren't you going to do anything about it?"

"Aren't you?" Kenji meets his gaze straight on. "He seems to be preoccupied by a… friend of yours."

The boy smiles again, and it spreads slow and deliberate across his face. "What Yahaba gets up to is none of my business," he says, then takes a sip of his drink. "Though, neither is it yours."

One beer isn't enough to even get him buzzed, but he's pretty sure his tongue is loosened just a trifle. "Well!" Kenji declares, slamming his glass none too gently onto the counter and earning himself another glare from Kamasaki and an additional one from the bartender himself. "I'd very much like it to be!"

"Oh! Do you?" The boy says in a tone Kenji can't read. "Would you do anything?"

Kenji squints at him. "Not anything, obviously. Are you trying to help me, or something? That sounds awful fishy, coming from you."

The boy rests his chin on one hand. "Are you doubting someone you just met? How very intelligent of you." He tosses back the rest of his gin with nary a flinch, then offers a grin and a hand. "Dance with me."

Kenji stares. "Excuse me?"

"What, aren't you bored?" The boy slides off his stool. "You don't look like the sort of guy to be visiting such establishments simply to try your luck picking up chicks at the bar."

"Impressive. What gave it away?"

"Hmm." The boy lets his gaze travel from Kenji's eyeliner down to his worn-out skinny jeans and Converse, and Kenji most certainly does not shiver under his eyes. "Just a guess."

"And you?" Kenji manages. "What are _you_ here for?"

"Obviously for the excellent vintage," he says, nodding towards his empty glass.

"Spare me. The stuff here is about as good as the shit I can get from the corner shop downstairs."

"Well, then," the boy says, shrugging his shoulders in an exaggerated manner, "what other reason is there to be here?"

Almost involuntarily, Kenji's eyes flicker toward the dance floor. The mix is still playing, and he thinks he spots a dark head of hair bobbing alongside another lighter one stained in pinks and reds and greens from the lights. When he blinks back, the boy is staring right at him. "I can think of one other reason," Kenji says.

Again, that lazy smile that Kenji thinks is just about the most interesting thing about this kid. "I'd say you've made a pretty good guess."

"Alright, since you're so insistent!" Draining his glass, Kenji grabs the boy's elbow and heads out towards the music. "Let's go _groove_ , mystery boy."

"My name's Ennoshita." The boy cringes as he catches up with Kenji. "And please, don't say that ever again."

"I'm Futakuchi. Less talking, Ennoshita." Kenji laughs. "More _grooving_."

Futakuchi Kenji likes to think he's a pretty good dancer. He realises he is utterly and completely wrong.

Ennoshita moves like gravity doesn't have anything on him, like the world can't stop him from doing whatever the hell he wants. It's as if inhibition isn't even in his dictionary—his eyes are closed, his lips are parted just _so_ , and Kenji can't look away. He's struggling to keep up, because it feels like if he stops for the slightest second, for even the shortest of beats, Ennoshita’s going to sweep him away and he'll never find his way back to reality.

Making Kamasaki take him back here was the best decision he's made in a while.

Akaashi's all tantalising touches and teasing glances—Ennoshita keeps his eyes mostly closed and keeps himself at a distance that could be considered short anywhere else, but he might as well be standing a room away from Kenji in a place like this, so he takes it upon himself to close that distance with the occasional slide of his hand up Ennoshita's arm or against his leg. The shorter boy rewards him with blinks of surprise and a single, almost _delighted_ laugh that has something in Kenji's chest curling up tight.

There's a light dancing in Ennoshita's eyes that Kenji can't look away from. "Keep it up, Futakuchi," he says, then proceeds to do something with his hips that Kenji considers highly threatening to his psyche, if not downright illegal.

By the time two more tracks pass, Kenji's covered in more than just a sheen of sweat, and Ennoshita's got some droplets beading very distractingly on his brow. "Uh," Kenji says. "Another drink? On me?"

"If I knew getting you all sweaty would've gotten me a free beer, I'd have done this a lot sooner," Ennoshita says, taking Kenji's wrist and leading him away from the music.

"Ennoshita!"

Ennoshita stops abruptly at the sound of his name, and Kenji bumps into his (unfortunately for Kenji's aforementioned psyche, rather sturdy) back. "Yahaba?"

The DJ—Yahaba, apparently—steps out of the throng of people, with Akaashi trailing behind him. "Who's this?" he asks, piercing Kenji with a curious stare.

"A fan." Ennoshita elbows Kenji none too gently in the rib. "Go on, say something."

Kenji notices that Yahaba's panting a little, and that the lights throw shadows across his face in a manner that's almost incandescent, and that his eyes catch those same lights and trap them in his irises and Kenji can't really say anything that isn't an embarrassingly breathy "you're brilliant."

He also notices that Yahaba blushes very prettily. "Um, thank you, I think," Yahaba says, glancing uncertainly in Ennoshita’s direction.

Akaashi has his arms crossed and regards Kenji with a cross between amusement and pity. This seems to catch Ennoshita's attention, who asks cheerfully for Akaashi's name and leans forward to hear it over the music. They almost bump heads. This definitely does not affect Kenji at all in the slightest.

"Well, now that we're all acquainted, can we go get something to drink?" Ennoshita says with an easy smile. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm fucking parched."

Kamasaki raises an eyebrow at Kenji again when he perches himself onto the neighbouring chair with three other people in tow. "Good day?"

"I have no fucking clue," Kenji tells him honestly. "But I sure as hell hope so."

Ennoshita's managed to wheedle himself into a seat between Kenji and Yahaba. Akaashi looks like he can't be bothered with any wheedling of his own, and sits himself down beside Yahaba with a slightly unimpressed look. Kenji makes faces at him until he's smiling again, just a little.

"Oh, I'll pass," Yahaba says as the bartender takes their orders. "I should probably be going back up, actually."

"Aw, already?" Kenji pouts at him. "I haven't even gotten to dance with you yet."

"Yeah, Yahaba, go dance," Ennoshita chimes in. "Futakuchi is what you would call..." He hums and swirls the liquid in his glass around, his face scrunched up in thought. "An experience."

Yahaba chuckles, though it sounds more unsure than amused. "I'm really sorry, Futakuchi, but I'm not much of a dancer. Akaashi can attest to that."

"I don't judge," Akaashi says, shrugging a little bit as his eyes narrow mischievously. "But he did trip twice over his own feet, and once over mine."

Ennoshita wolf-whistles as Yahaba winces. "That's a new record," Ennoshita cackles, slapping him on the back. "Couldn't keep it in your pants, kid?"

"You're not older than me, shut up!" Yahaba retorts, clearly red-faced. Akaashi looks like he's torn between feeling pleased with himself or feeling very flattered. Kenji is filled with an overwhelming urge to laugh, probably because of the alcohol. So he does.

"You guys are fucking great," he says, wiping at his eyes and grinning so hard he feels like his face is going to split. "Shit, we need to get together sometime. You're all a bloody riot."

"If it's somewhere with better gin than what this place has to offer, I'm game," Ennoshita says.

Yahaba snorts. "Yeah, sure, you say that, but you always strike out within like, three shots."

"Five," Ennoshita corrects immediately. "But I like those shots to be very _good_ shots, mind you."

"I know a place," Akaashi says. "I usually drop by after I get too tired here, and I have some friends there. It's not too far off, just a short walk."

"Then what the hell are we waiting for?" Kenji whoops.

Yahaba raises a hand. "Uh, for me? I have to finish my shift."

"Yahaba," Ennoshita whines, actually fucking _whines_ , and Kenji's mind goes skittering into thoughts about _Ennoshita making certain other sounds_ that he'd really rather have in private. "Stop being such a workaholic."

"If I don't finish my shift, how am I supposed to pay for your stupid cab home?"

"Ah... good point."

"Wait, wait, hold the fuck up," Kenji says, raising his hands. "If Yahaba's going back up there, then I want to be _down there_."

Three pairs of eyes stare back at him with varying levels of amusement and/or alarm.

"I meant the dance floor!" Kenji clarifies, his voice an octave higher than he'd like it to be. "I want to be on the dance floor."

"Yes." Akaashi leaves his half-empty drink on the counter and stalks over to Kenji, wrapping a hand around Kenji's wrist. "Let's go."

"Whoa, whoa, let me finish my drink." Kenji downs the last dregs of his beer. "Okay, now we can go. What's the hurry?"

Akaashi _looks_ at him. "Jealous streak, remember?"

"That won't do," Ennoshita interjects easily. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to share Futakuchi. He moves too well for me to give him up."

"Good." Akaashi's smiling now, in a way that sends shivers down Kenji's back. It feels nice. "In Futakuchi's words, 'nothing like a challenge to spice things up'."

"Normally I'd be delighted over having two cute boys fight over me," Kenji says, "but I'm too worried sick that Ennoshita's going to steal you from right under my nose to actually feel good about myself."

Akaashi is suddenly regarding Ennoshita with a new kind of interest. "Why? What's he got?"

Ennoshita _smiles_ back at him. "How about I show, not tell?"

Kenji sighs deeply. "That lasted about seven seconds. I'm very thankful for those glorious, wonderful seven seconds."

"—And, that'll be my cue to go," Yahaba says, sounding almost sorry. "I'll come find you guys after I'm done?"

"We won't go anywhere," Kenji winks.

"Oh, but we _are_ going," Ennoshita says innocently. "Going to destroy the fucking dance floor."

"I like the way you think," Akaashi lilts. "Shall we, Futakuchi?"

"With pleasure," Kenji says.

 

Kamasaki watches Kenji leave with his new—acquaintances? Friends? Fuck buddies? He can't care less, really—and scoffs into his martini. "Looks like I'm going home alone, tonight."

Sasaya glances back at him from where he's wiping down a couple of glasses. "Are you?"

"Kenji's probably going to go pissing off somewhere on his own, so yeah." He narrows his eyes at Sasaya. "Why, you got a better idea?"

The look Sasaya sends him could probably just be a bored one, but that smirk definitely _isn't_. "Why," he says, and it's almost a drawl. "You read my mind."

**Author's Note:**

> please leave a comment!! if u love this ot4 i will love u


End file.
